


The Bayou Full Of Gators

by S0ckyscribbledoodle



Category: Hazbin Hotel (Web Series)
Genre: 1910s, ALASTOR GATOR DAD 2020, Alastor Has a Heart (Hazbin Hotel), Alastor is Bad at Feelings (Hazbin Hotel), Alastor is in Hell for a Reason (Hazbin Hotel), Alastor; The Gator Dad, Alligators, Alternate Universe - Human, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, Animal Death, Author Is Sleep Deprived, Befriending animals, Broken Families, Character Death, Emotional Baggage, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Graphic Description, Gruesome deaths, Heavy Angst, Human Alastor (Hazbin Hotel), Human Husk (Hazbin Hotel), Husk is So Done (Hazbin Hotel), Implied/Referenced Abuse, It Gets Worse Before It Gets Better, Killing, Louisiana Voodoo vibe, Murder, Period Typical Attitudes, Period-Typical Homophobia, Period-Typical Racism, Protective Alastor (Hazbin Hotel), The Author Regrets Nothing, This Is Why We Can't Have Nice Things, Unconventional Families
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-16
Updated: 2020-11-10
Packaged: 2021-03-06 06:34:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 4
Words: 7,430
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25938991
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/S0ckyscribbledoodle/pseuds/S0ckyscribbledoodle
Summary: In 1913, a young teen befriends an unlikely animal in the swamps of Lousiana
Relationships: Alastor & Alastor's Mother (Hazbin Hotel), Alastor & Husk (Hazbin Hotel), Alastor's Father/Alastor's Mother (Hazbin Hotel)
Comments: 11
Kudos: 58





	1. The Gators In The Bayou

**Author's Note:**

> This was such a dumb idea me and jaacive made on discord but we love it too much! 
> 
> Go check them out please there so amazing and funny-

“ Bèbè. Can ya get the chicken feed? Almost lunchtime for dem.” Abigail called, a glass jar at her side. A young teenager looked towards her as he sat against the wall, looking out towards the window. 

“ Yes Mama,” Alastor muttered and stood up before dusting off his pants and grabbing a bag of food for the birds and rolled up his sleeves. Alastor left the tiny cabin and stepped onto the mossy, wet grass. Storms had been plaguing the hot summer of 1913, causing the ground to be loose and muddy under his boots.

He grumbled something under his breath and walked to the chicken coop as his mother watched from the window before sighing, getting ready to fill the jar with some jam. 

Alastor stood as far away from the chickens as he could, hating the chickens with a burning passion.

“ Here. Just-Just take it.” He hissed and threw the feed onto the dirt and watched the chickens dig in. A great time to escape.

He shut the gate quickly and exhaled, tiredly.

Alastor always hated animals. But hey never liked him back. The hunting dogs traumatized Alastor at a young age. Causing Alastor to scratch at his scared arm as he walked towards the river bed.

Cats hissed and scratched. The chickens screeched and squawked at him. 

People weren’t any better then the animals he was around. People stared at him as he walked down the street with his mom. He didn’t like the outside world. The outside world saw him as a freak and treated him that way, so he usually stayed inside and worked with his mother. It was better this way.  
  
Alastor trudged through the muddy river bed. He looked into the murky water before following it up towards the hanging, mossy trees that hung over the river, like an entering almost to the N’Orleans bayou.

The water down in the bayou was never the cleanest, but neither the dirtiest of them. By far, the bayou he lived close to was most likely the cleanest one he had seen. The dirt and above surrounding the water made it murky but that's even more of a reason why he loved the water. Unknown things in there he might find since no one else really bothered to come close. He heard many rumors of alligators being in the bayou, but he never believed in such things.

His mother nodded him off. She went to another side of the bayou to fetch items that lay dormant on the shore, for it was a quite easy way to make again around the town. 

Alastor stared down at the shore, crouching down and weeding through the mud. Seeing a few small crabs and shells tucked underneath the terrain. He felt a bit of movement underneath his foot, though. Lots of it. Things were crawling out from under the ground up to the surface. His foot happened to be atop their entryway, so he moved it.

When Alastor looked down, he saw an odd sort of a blur. It was an off-color from the murky water, a weird tint of green but more brown and black. 

A few more of the same creatures popped out, except a few coming rights to the surface. They were baby alligators! Alastor picked a few up and quickly put them near the water, as the nest was a bit further away from the shore. A bird would love to see if they could snack on an alligator, no doubt. 

Alastor looked back at the nest, more of them coming out. He quickly went over and picked them up, putting them into the water. A few tried to bite him, except they had no teeth to do so. Alastor laughed at the gesture. 

Every one of the babies was into the shore, an alligator coming by and picking them up with her mouth and swimming off. Alastor smiled before a small alligator came by and stood on the foot of his boot. He picked them up and looked at it, the little alligator looking like it was smiling at Alastor. 

"I'll name you Abigail." 

The little gator in his hands could only let out a tiny squeak in acknowledgment. Being only a few minutes old, they couldn’t do much either. The young teen chuckled watching the baby gator move around in his hands, trying to crawl up his hand and forearm as if it was the mud and sand-mixture of the bayou river bed.  
  
“ A tiny creature like yourself will be feared in the bayou. I know it,” Alastor told the little gator as they snipped at his finger, trying to snag it for a meal. 

From the murky water, a hissed broke through it. Alastor looked with Abigail in hand to see the eyes of a large grey-green alligator staring back at him, with a few baby gators following after them. And even a few on top of their head, peeking out of the water with small peeps.  
  
“ Protective mother as well,” He laughed to himself and placed them onto the muddy floor,” Dere you go. No harm at all.” Alastor quipped. Only to get a loud hiss in reply from the mother gator, he guessed.  
  
He gasped playfully, pretending he was hurt by the act of the large gator, but soon smiled at the sight of little Abigail reuniting with her family.” How sweet..” He softened.” I should name dem all sometime soon.” Alastor muttered and got himself back onto sturdier land, just as the large gator sunk back into the unclear water of the river, like a monster sinking into the deep.

Alastor looked at the water becoming still again until his mother broke the silence of nature by calling his name. He was quick to get out of the bayou area and home, where his mother was most likely at. 

The trip home was short, and he hoped it would be longer as his father was back from a trip. The trips his father went on were the real times he felt any genuine emotions; relief and happiness. Alastor didn't bother with emotions, he couldn't feel them. So he faked all of them to look human. But, behind closed doors, he did nothing but look tired and emotionless. No smiling or anything of the sort.

Alastor walked inside his home, taking his boots off and trying to get all mud off the boots along with him so he wouldn't get yelled at. _He hated being yelled at; it was a phobia in all honesty._ He walked upstairs to his room, getting rid of his grimace of a smile and putting on that bland face of his he usually wore at home. He sat down atop his bed, mildly disgusted since his clothing was covered in a bit of mud, _but he didn't want to change_. 

  
Sitting in silence, Alastor stared at the wooden walls of his family home. Looking and tracing out the cracks of his old home's walls. Alastor winced, sucking in a sharp breath as he heard his father hunting dogs bark and snarling, seeing the old beat-up truck pull away from his home, a few men hanging off the side and back of the work truck.  
  
Alastor never liked his father and tried staying as far away from the man as he could, even though he lived in the same home as him. The young southern boy laid up in his bed and stared out into the river close to his home. He hoped to see Abigail and her little family of gators. He was happy to know the rumors of alligators in the N’Orleans waters were true and not an old wise tale those kids told him at school to keep him from enjoying the water in this scolding heat. Alastor was so sucked into the view of the river, contemplating seeing if he could find the gators again. 

Maybe doing it at night may be safer?   
  
That he almost fell out of bed once he heard the door cracking home. Thankfully, bless whatever gods there is, it was only his lovely mother, Abigail. 

"Hello Lovely," Abigail said as she walked over to Alastor and sat down beside him. She wrapped her arm around Alastor and he leaned into her touch. "I know you don't like this lifestyle because of your father, mon trésor, but I don't wish you going near that bayou. I don't want you being dragged into the waters by alligators." Abigail spoke softly as she pulled out a jar of strawberry jam. 

Alastor took the jar Abigail gave him and ate a bit of it. 

"I still do not understand how’y refuse to use sweeteners."  
  
Alastor shook his head in disgusted, trying to get the suffocating sweet taste off his tongue.” It tastes like lickin’ the sugar tin.” He shivered and handed the jar back to his mama.  
  
She chuckled, watching Alastor grimace in dislike of the taste of the jam.” Don't worry, b ébé. I know ya like what ya like. But, please,” She placed a hand under his chin, getting his mother to look up to him.” Please, don’t go playing by the bayou. I just don’t want you getting hurt by them alligators.” Alastor sighed, letting his head fall against his mother's palm.  
  
“ Yes mama,” He nodded softly.  
  
“ Thank ya, sha.” She kisses his forehead before standing up,” Would some stew be betta den jam?” Alastor nodded as Abigail placed her hand on the door,” I see. I’ll getcha something to eat, sha.” She hummed as the door closed softly, leaving Alastor alone once more. He turned back to his window and stared out in the bayou with a sigh.  
  
He knew he didn’t like betraying his mother, but something was pulling him towards the bayou.  
  
He would return tonight with some snacks for the gators.

Alastor sighed again before he looked up at the sky. It was becoming dark. If he knew not only the time but his father any better than he has, then he should get to bed.

This cajun loser went over to his dresser and dug around for sleepwear, or at least something so he could get a few hours of sleep. He wanted to see those gators and Abigail again; why not just take a nap!


	2. Scratches Can Heal, But Can Scars?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alastor visits a new friend in the bayou

The night was hot in the little town of Orleans. The swampy smell of the bayou filled the backyard as it rose into the air and filled Alastor’s senses. His glowing eyes opened up and he grinned as he was laying in his old, rickety bed. Kicking off the covers, he grabbed some supper he saved from dinner, inside his draw. He retrieved it and clutched the napkin around it before fetching his boots and tugging them on. He cracked the door open and sighed, peeking out into the quiet house. Nobody was up. His father drank himself silly after returning home to the house, so he won’t be a problem tonight, thankfully.    
  
Alastor crept down to the door and opened it before breathing in the air. Much nicer outside than inside. He stared up into the dark blue sky, letting himself breathe. Fireflies and gnats flew by as he made his way down to the bayou once more, in the dead of the night.    
  
Alastor made his way towards the bayou as the sleeping chicken’s slept in their cubes. The smell of the air made Alastor sigh as he jumped down to the sandy mud and looked towards the bayou, swamp water; his favorite smell.

The young teenager had crouched down near the ground, letting the murky water and the fresh air fill his lungs before he looked down at the dinner he had saved. Alastor let out a low whistle, one to not disturb the chickens but possibly enough to Abigail and her family.

After a few moments of waiting, he saw small ripples in the water. A large alligator came swimming, rather chasing Abigail. The small alligator climbed onto the ground and went straight to Alastor, crawling onto the foot of his shoes. The mother alligator swam by to Alastor letting out a ruff sniffing sound. Alastor slowly reached over and let the mother sniff his hand for a few moments. He slowly ran his hand down her snout and to between her eyes. She closed her eyes and let out a soft hiss, opening her mouth. It was clear she enjoyed this.

Abigail made a peeping sound underneath. Alastor slowly pulled his hand from the mother, softly chuckling.

“Ya need your feed, den?” Alastor more stated than asked.

Alastor reached back and grabbed the saved dinner he had. He peeled smelled pieces apart and the other smaller alligators came swimming by, yoinking a few bits. While Abigail had been eating them as she trusted Alastor. After the babies had eaten, there was still a large amount of feed left. 

“Want some?” Alastor gestured to the mother alligator, who huffed in response. The teenager grabbed some of the meal and tossed it at the larger. She caught it in one snap, Alastor giving a small clap for doing so. 

Most people would have run at the mere sight of an alligator, and here Alastor was; feeding alligators while talking to them. (If you asked him, he’d say they could understand him, and him likewise to them!)

Alastor picked Abigail up in his hands, looking at her head markings. Right between her eyes was the shape of a radio dial, Of course, she was barely even a day old, but the mark was as clear as day.    
  
“ Oh my...dats an interesting look ya got dere.” He chuckled and placed a finger softly on her read and ran down her scaly backside, watching her squirm and peep with happiness at the rub. 

The gators seemed to be more friendly around him than others. So many stories of men going into the bayou and never returning were told and heard through the town. But surprisingly, the gators were more friendly than most people in his town. Gators were known to tip boats over and eat you alive, dragging you into the darkness of the bayou, but with the tiny squeaks of Abigail in his hands and the large gator mother swimming close to the shoreline with her young, he didn’t see it that way.    
  
The dogs soon began to howl and huff, causing Alastor to quickly get up and clean up his wrappings,” Mus be time for Pa to leave. I have to go or I’m in trouble. I’ll return soon again.” He placed Abigail into the water as she squealed and peered at him. He smiled and waved softly to her as the large gator hissed and sunk into the deep of the murky water. Alastor walked away and back to his home, looking back at the bayou. The gators swarmed up to the mother and she swam off, the mother flicking her tail into the air. It was cute.

Alastor smiled softly before he bumped into something. He fell backward, landing on his back. When the teenager looked up, it was a silhouette, as the sun didn’t fully show the person’s stature. After the person moved and shifted into Alastor’s view, it was his father. He was seething in anger, face red with wrath.    


“Y’little shit!” His father yelled, grabbing Alastor by the collar of his neck. The boy being very thin and pretty much malnourished, he couldn’t do much against the bulkier man. It felt like he was being strangled. It hurt a lot, at least it would for most others. Alastor’s pain tolerance went up a very high amount due to his father and his thoughts. 

“Petite baize, I’m g onna have to give you to the hounds, aren’t I?!” His father yelled in his usual gruff tone. Alastor quickly tried to squirm out and away from his father’s grasp’ The dogs were not fun to be around if they were angry. “F-Father, I d-don’t want to g-” Alastor stammered, his smile depleting and quickly becoming a scared expression. “Shut up, connard! I’m bringin’ ya to the mutts’ and there ain’t a  thing yer gonna be able to do!” His father shouted, quickly dragging Alastor to another side of the old home. There was a metal fence, holding back seven hunting dogs. The dogs barked and sniffed at the fence, digging their paws through the cage and yapping along.

His father held Alastor high, dangling him over the hunting dogs that were barking and growling up at him. Alastor could practically smell and feel the slobber off of the hounds. It was filthy; he didn’t want to get shredded up or get dog saliva in his nose. The slobbering part sounded worse than the actual pain these dogs could cause him to be honest.

The bulky man tossed Alastor aside from the hounds, right beside them. On the father’s command, the dogs went and tackled after Alastor. Their dirty claws had begun to already scratch through his skin, breaking it nearly immediately. Blood started to get all over Alastor and smear wherever else, and not in the way Alastor liked.

A few other dogs began to bite his arms and legs, practically mauling him. His father had already gone back to the house, probably watching his son getting mauled by seven hunting dogs.

Alastor, soon after getting enough of the blood and biting on him, started to kick the dogs, trying to shove them away to the best of his ability. One of the dogs had scratched up his face badly. Blood was everywhere on him, it was not fun. The dogs had been kicked enough so they went away from Alastor for now. That didn’t mean they’d come back after they fixed themselves up, though.   
  
Alastor didn’t say a word, he just couldn’t. Gripping his bloody arm as it dripped onto his clothes and the muddy ground. His skin was laced in dog bites and scratches. His face as well was covered in red. He needed to get inside. Now.    
  
The teen raced into his house. He couldn’t care anymore if blood and mud were on him as he raced into the house. He didn’t see his father, thankfully. But his body stung as he breathed. Making his way towards the bathroom, he grabbed the washcloth and winced as his skin pulled. He pulled off his shirt and wiped down his arm, after getting some water and soap on it. He whimpered and winced, cleaning his body off. He bit his lip as it stung, praying he could just stay quiet.    
  
Till the door creaked and opened up. His breathing picked up, stuck in his chest, and hard to get out. His eyes widened as he clutched the washcloth.    
  
“ Sha..? Who’s in here-” Abigail didn’t finish, seeing the site of Alastor, covered in bloody marks. She just couldn’t. The site of him covered in blood and dirt mixed within his wounds was painful. Abigail covered her mouth before she quickly walked over and took the cloth from Alastor. She quickly began to clean up the blood dripping down his face and where else.    
  
Alastor's face hurt from embarrassment. He hated it when people saw him as something weak. _ He wasn’t weak.  _ _  
_ _  
_ “ Sha. Come here. Lemme see ya face,” She whispered and placed a hand on his cheek. She winced at the sight of her son. Blood hit the floor as tears fell from his eyes, running down his cheek.” C’mere, cher. Lemme fix ya up. And get something in ya.” She pressed her hand on his cheek.”..My baby..” She stared at him as his eyes felt like they were burning.

"Dear, what happened?" Abigail asked in shock, the blood slowly coming out again and getting onto her hands. It was a gruesome sight. Alastor looked down in pity, feeling ashamed of himself and the fact he felt and looked so… weak. And pathetic. That just  _ wasn't _ Alastor. Alastor was a crazed person; Right? He.. didn't feel things... So why did it hurt so much to look this way in front of his mother?   
  
Abigail took a towel and wrapped him up, swaddling him like a baby. She got most of the blood off his face and arms before leading him downstairs to make him some breakfast. She wrapped his wounds up in his gaze before grabbing a few things and whipping up grits and sausage. Though, the food tastes like ash on his taste buds. Filling him with disgust.   
  
“ Can ya tell me what happened? Was it an animal? A bayou is a dangerous place, sweetie..” Alastor didn’t answer. He knew what happened when he spoke up. He was weak for saying anything. Abigail only looked at her silent son. She sighed and placed a hand on his back.” Back ta bed, sha. Ya need rest after today. No schoolin' today.” She told him and helped Alastor back to his room for the day.

Alastor nodded solemnly, the wounds aching a little. He knew better than to speak up about Father's acts, and this was more than no exception. Even if he did tell his mother, she wouldn't be able to do much about it, for their father practically has a monopoly on them. They can't do a single thing against him. It was cruel, but what more could you expect? This was a family with a Mid-Atlantic past, not much more can be explained besides racism and supremacy; their father was no exception to that either.

The walk to his bed felt.. terrible. He's had so many days and time again just the same, but rather more, verbal. And mental. His father has done a lot of verbal abuse around, more people at his school have done the physical. This was a terrible place to be in for anyone, but, what can Alastor do? Get  _ help _ ? If he were to do that, he'd be accused of lying. Even  _ with _ proof. Alastor had no escape.

"I know that won't feel too good in ya, cher, so I'll be back later with somethin' more filling, okay?" Abigail said as she covered Alastor with his sheets; Although the food Father had kept saved for him and himself only, Abigail was good with making things bare minimum. He just hoped these wounds won't leave a nasty scar; he's sure he'll get something out of it once he gets back to school.


	3. Fought Tooth And Nail

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fear is in all of us, so what happens when Alastor is done with his father and the harm he and his racist friends have caused him and his mother

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Co Creator Exeno here, Warning. This one incldies darker story telling of gore and blood. If you are queazy/sickened easily, we do not suggest this story at all for you. Animals were hurt in the making and Alastor has no remorse.
> 
> (Exeno's marking is EF when talking; watch out for that to not confuse us two writers)

Alastor traces his finger against what is left of the bandages on his body. Most of the damage taken from the hounds had left an awful lot of scarring over his skin. His mother had told him that he still looked like her handsome boy, but to others, it was just another thing added to Alastor to make him an even bigger freak. 

He laid his head against the rather hard pillow and looked at the wooden bowl full of gumbo his mother made him. He still didn't like eating anything. He didn’t want to eat, nor go outside. One bark or huff from the hunting dogs would send him into hysterics. So much so that his father was beginning to be so pissed by it, he resorted to even more drinking and violence, especially against him and his mother.    
_  
_ _ That was the last straw. _   
  
_ After he saw the shinner he gave his mother, Alastor had enough. This man only ever ruined his life, and to hit his mother, because of something HE did.  _ _  
_ _  
_ _ Oh, Alastor had something planned for him.  _ _  
_ _  
_ _ And what a coincidence he and his pals from work were going out on the boats tonight to catch some catfish and crawfish for a summer boil.  _   
  
_ How unfortunate; No one had thought what was going to happen today at this time. _

After enough time had passed, and trust when we say  _ enough _ time passed, Alastor slowly got up. The house was old, so he had to be careful if he wanted to sneak around when the entire god damned house just croaked all day. The gators might help. It's a long shot, but they might just help in the making.

Alastor had dressed decently for the day, just a plain white shirt and black dress pants. It wasn't necessary to do anything if he were to go and have a  _ tragedy _ happen.

The boy made his way through the front and to where he saw his father and his friends making do with the bay. It was very sunny out; he could see the men slightly sunburnt, but that might just make it worse for them.

Of course, since it was practically the middle of the day, it was hard to sneak around. Even more so when he doesn't even blend in.    
  
Alastor crouched down and watched them pile into the old, wooden boat as his father hounds were sleeping on the dusty ground, bathing in the sunlight, while his father’s friends' dogs were tied up to the open cage so they wouldn't run around, into the river or bayou.

Alastor moved quietly to the treeline and almost broke his leg when he fell into a bush. He looked up in fear of being caught but sighed when they didn’t notice him. Alastor huffed and stepped into the river water with a sigh. He looked around, hitting the water to get some attention from his familiar bayou friends, but got nothing so far.    
  
Till he heard a recognizable beep. 

Alastor grinned, turning through the swampy water to see the tiny gator swimming towards him, beeping the whole way there till Alastor scoops her up and grins.   
  
“ Ah, is dat a familiar face?” He chirped, running his finger down the little gators back. The gator baby squeaked happily at the attention of the little boy she was getting.” Need some help from ya and  congregation.” He ran his finger down his back,” Yes yes.” He chuckled. Scratching under their chin. Abigail continued to let out little squeaks of enjoyment before her mother came huffing by.

"Mhm, you too, lass." Alastor carefully slid Abigail into the water and pet between the mother's eyes. She opened her mouth and hissed in joy from the attention. Soon after, more gators came by, following suit of their mother. He gave them all attention before he heard his father make a loud yell, trying to lead in a crawfish.

Alastor snarled before looking down, seeing the gators unpleasant by the abruption as well. They  _ had _ to have seen what his father had done, at least from afar; they had to see his father hurt him. 

"Hey, over dere's my father... Do me a favor an'.. help me hurt 'em." Alastor spoke, a little above a whisper. All of the gators let out a soft snarl before going under the musky water to see what they could do to his father. Hopefully; none got hurt since they had animals that might harm them.

The scaled beasts made their way to the fishing men who were slowly getting further and further away from shore. Alastor was slowly making his way to the dogs. Only three of the four dogs in the group trusted him. He could snap their necks somewhere if the fishing men won't notice their dogs go missing. Or.. he could go a little..  _ darker _ .

The teen made his way to the dogs; all asleep except for one. He couldn't remember, but her name might have been Elena? It's been a while since he's met his father's friends. Anyhow, he quickly leads the dog away, far away from where she was out of sight from all the dogs and wasn't nearby. He played with her, smiling as he slowly wrapped himself around her. He was hugging her. Then, he snapped her neck in a fluid motion. He had always imagined of doing so and thought it was hard! It was very easy. Except… hiding the corpse without letting bugs and it rotting might not be. He wanted to surprise the owners and do something a little cruel.

He repeated the same process with all the other dogs until there was the only dog left, the one that didn't trust Alastor on behalf of his father's friend... Maybe a stab to the head? No; too much bled and it might hear him. Neither is he good at knife throwing. Lead? No... scents are strong with animals. How to find a kill easily...

After a few moments, he made his way to the bayou calmly and looked around. He saw the mother's slight movement from afar along with a nearby gator. The father? If so, maybe he could befriend him too. The mother was probably somewhere playing with the majority of the children that survived. He knew how the wild worked, he wasn't  _ stupid. _

He swished the water that was different from how he did with the other gators he had met, and soon, he saw the largest one swim by after a few tries. Alastor was slow, letting the larger sniff him and gain his trust. Soon after, Alastor had slowly led the large gator out of the water and was somehow already letting it in on the plan he had in the span of a few minutes. 

The teenager made his way to the dog that had been sleeping for nearly the entire day, basking in the sun. 

"Hey, Rock," Alastor spoke in slightly above a whisper. The dog slowly looked up and stared down at Al, slowly baring its teeth. "Hey, hey, no need ta get aggressive, lad.. do ya happen ta know where yer friends are at?" The dog looked around before shooting up in attack mode, about to hurdle down Alastor. "Hey, I said no need ta get aggressive. I know where they're at. Come, come." Alastor slowly stood up and let the dog follow suit. It wasn't long before he slowly made his way to the bayou, sitting on the ground behind the dog who was right over the ledge.

"See, they're right.. down... Here!" Alastor spoke up a bit louder, able to shove the dog down into the water and letting the father gator drown and kill it under the water. Miraculously, none of the elders had noticed all of their dogs go missing in the past twenty minutes. Perfect; it was going a little too well... But, he better takes this chance that it only took him twenty minutes. 

Alastor slowly reached down, lowering himself and picking up the dog's poorly tied on leash and collar that floated back up from the kill. Maybe he could hang the three dogs with this… He'll see.

He was hiding behind a tree, shying himself from the sunlight to plan out the next kill. Should he be a distraction? No, too dangerous. Push them off? Too bulky for him to do that either. The one thing he can think of is snap one the other's neck to gain attention from that. Too dangerous  _ still _ ... Ugh, the dogs were easy enough but this was just painful. 

Alastor made his way to the older men, completely ignoring the behind of them as they fished. He had a knife on him, didn't he? Oh yeah, he had one. Rather more, a butcher knife. This should be fun.

The teenager slowly bent down and slowly swirled the water he did with Abigail and her family. They were right there underneath the water; they  _ knew _ what they were doing. Gators aren't given enough credit, are they? So smart yet thought to be just killing machines.

Alastor stood back up before he had the plan down with the gators. He quietly made his way on top of the boat; how has he not been noticed at all? It was an entire miracle.

Now.. kill or shove one-off... Maybe both? No, too much. Maybe just try and shove one off to make a scene. It would be interesting too; near-death experience for his kids if he gets any! 

After approaching the weakest of the bunch, John, he braced himself. This might lead to his death. But, like he always thought;  _ never a bad idea to try. _

Alastor ran at the man, completely shoving him into the water, tipping over the crawfish that had been caught as well. As soon as the man landed into the water, three gators came at once, tearing him to shreds. Limbs were just floating in the murky brown water like a cereal brand in milk. Except.. grosser.

His father's friend, one that he hadn't met entirely yet, had quickly picked Alastor up and swiftly thrashed him under the water. He was good at holding his breath; the unearthly smells of booze and other various things were a common thing for him.

As soon as he felt himself get pushed deeper and deeper under the water, a gator came by and pulled him up to the surface. The man who attempted to drown him was dragged deep underneath the murky water, only to have moments later get his intestines and limbs rise to the top. The brown murky water slowly became a dead and sickishly dark crimson from all the blood from the dead people. 

"You couyon..!" He heard his father yell. It shook him up a little, but he wasn't afraid;  _ he had the upper hand _ .

"Hey, Father.. I'd try not ta rock the boat 'round too much... else.." Four alligators came and had wrecked the boat they were on in and out. His father fell into the murky water, alligators diving in after him. Despite water drowning his screams out, no pun-intended, Alastor could still hear the faint yelling of his father before it stopped. His broken and bloodied limbs floated to the top again. 

He just killed three men and four hunting dogs.

_ With little to no remorse. _

Actually; he wasn't done yet. His friend, John, had a wife. Maybe he could pull a little.. prank on her. More than a prank… He was going to traumatize her.

Alastor swam his way to the shore. He was quite aways away, but Abigail's mother helped him quickly get to shore. He was thankful; the water sort of traumatized him from the drown, despite him being calm and saved quickly.

"Thank ya lasses and lads.." He coughed as the five gators who had helped him came to shore. He gave them attention for a while, at least ten minutes or so before he had made a bit of a business trip to John's home. It was a bit of a walk, but he could easily make it there if he quickly went. And, there he went. He had gone and done something that would scare the poor woman to  _ paralyzation. _

"Oh my goodness! Al?" His mother came running by and checked him. He had murky blondish water dripping off him with mud stuck along his skin. He didn't look pretty, but he was smiling like the sun. "Mama, Father's gone.." He slowly began to cry happy tears. He only ever felt at ease showing.. slight emotion in front of his mother.

She looked.. shock. Did he.. murder him? It didn't make much sense, since he wasn't hurt at all, really, and their father would have hurt him if he tried anything. She was glad, yes, since they were free, but it felt.. uneasy. 

"How..?" She couldn't stop herself from smiling lightly. "The gators... I befriended em and they attacked 'im since he hurt me that day ago.." His smile slacked a little before it was large again; they were  _ free _ .

"He's.. gone?" Of course, she didn't let the gator thing slip, but... They were  _ free _ from the man's grasp. That means the man's work was on Alastor, but.. anything to not have that bastard back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> EF - Be careful next chapter! It'll be lighter, but it'll be quite dark in the beginning! (The same little puppers from before are gonna be the stars here!)


	4. The Corner Store

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After the death of Alastor's father, it's time for Alastor to step up in the family

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We also made a discord server for this story!
> 
> Come join us!!

That night, the two arose to early in the morning. A good morning. There was no hint of barking from the hunting dogs, none of their Father. He was gone. It was rather brutal, but they could live again. He wasn't a very.. good man. If you couldn't tell already; then I assume you have a very good reason not to see it.

However, it wasn't the same story with the wife's husband of their father's friend. She was a sweet woman, and in turn, she got the best husband. They had no child yet, but they were thinking of so soon… Except she wouldn't be able to do that with her husband.

You see, Elizabeth, who was the wife of her now-dead husband, came running to Abigail and Alastor. She had some terrible news while crying. Sobbing. Alastor pitied what she must have witnessed...

"Abby! The dogs;... Something horrendous happened.." She sobbed out, resting her head on Abigail's. "Someone just… You'll have to come to see... It's terrifying." She breathily choked out before collecting herself as the women and Alastor came along. He was hoping to any form of unholy spirit that she didn't see the bathroom to amplify this.

As soon as they arrived, Abigail gasped. It was a terrible sight.

Their hunting dogs were hanging.

Limbs shredded, organs, and other hanging from the branches. Blood oozed down the trees they hung from, fitting in perfectly with the cracks of the oak. Leaves were stained and dried with crimson. The fact that someone put time out of their day to saw the dogs, hang them, and tear their  _ organs _ out just to make it some form of.. decoration was terrifying. There was no way Alastor had anything to do with this, right? He just.. happened to have some help nearby and his father probably attacked first… It was defense, right?

"Should we.. check the house for.. anything else that might be.. you know?" Alastor softly spoke, putting a hand on Elizabeth’s shoulder to show he somewhat cared. At the very least he had the excuse he wasn't good with emotions.

"Yes, yes.. that's a good idea. I didn't check anything besides knowing my husband was gone, so I came out and…" Elizabeth held her arms as the three made their way into the house. Alastor made his way, making sure he didn't look suspicious by not just heading there first, to the bathroom. 

".. Elizabeth?!" Alastor raised his tone, looking into the bathroom. This better get a good reaction. 

Alastor kept his charade by faking falling back and he just sat there,  _ pretending _ he cared about Elizabeth and her husband. Well, he slightly cared about Elizabeth a little bit. 

Elizabeth and Abigail made their way to the bathroom and were shocked to see the place become a rotten, bloody mess too. Her husband was laying in the bathtub, his legs and arms cut off. His torso and head were just laying in a bath of his blood and some dirty swamp water. A few organs filled the toilet that they dripped out like some ornament. Blood stained.. everywhere. The ceilings, walls, floors,  _ everywhere _ you could see was just..  _ blood _ .

Elizabeth broke into more sobs, dropping to her knees. She covered her mouth, but it didn't help. The woman felt like vomiting. The sight wasn't pretty.. it was  _ deranged _ . She doesn't know who did it but she wants them to burn wherever it was that be under the plane of sun. This was.. not something she could just recover from. 

"Eli..? Do you... want to live with us? Living here would make you more sorrowful." Abigail held her friends' hands and let the smaller woman cry into her. To have the woman recover would take a lot of time... An extended amount of time. Though, it was her friend. She would do anything for her.    
  
The young woman said something to Abigail as she wrapped her arms around Elizabeth, but Alastor didn’t hear anything. His eyes were on the massacre he had left in the bathroom, fighting so hard not to cause more or let out his little secret he had committed.    
  
Almost like he was in a ball of a chain. Stuck with his guilt, yet it wasn’t guilt. More so.. excitement. A rush from hiding the secret.    
  
He loved the feeling.

* * *

After the death of his father, he couldn’t tell his mother the full truth of the situation, of what he had committed. But that left the heavy work to the young teen. He had to farm, clean, fish, and worst of all hunt now. His mother forced him to get a new hunting dog. A tiny greyhound named Charlie. They were golden and speckles with white freckles. Alastor hated the new dog, but he counted on getting rid of them now with his mother and Elizabeth here. He brought in a large fishing net, full of shellfish and treats from the bayou. Charlie was laying on the dirt outside the house before Abigail let her in as she watched Alastor dumb out the food into a pot.

“Bébé, I know you are working hard and...” She started.

"I know I know...I tried finding something other than crawfish, but it seems like the fawn isn’t near the bayou nowadays.” 

Actually,” He looks when his mother places a hand on his shoulder.” I think one of us needs to get another job. I suppose I can do some laundry cleaning, but I may be working a lot more-“Alastor’s eyes widened before he quickly shook his head at her. 

"No! No! Mama, I’ll find a job for you! For us! It’ll be much easier, and I am younger. I’ll be able to find a job to help us out.” Alastor responded, clutching her hands tightly to his chest. 

“ Are you sure, sweet pea,” She rubs her hand over his cheek,” I can do it, Hun?” 

“ No, no. I am positive.” Alastor admitted.

Why did Alastor decide to do this? No store, shop, or center wanted to employ a kid like him. Because of his heritage, because he was mixed, and because of his dark skin tone, he was seen as lesser than. A problem almost.    
  
“ God blasted….” He hissed, dusting himself off and scratching out another job tightly in the daily newspaper. He hated doing this, but he was only doing it for his mother.    
  
With a sigh he got up and growled loudly as a car drove by, causing smog to hit his face. He silently cursed, trying to clean up as he entered a small grocery store at the corner. Alastor coughed as he dusted himself up, only to jump when his back hit the desk at the front, only for a gruff voice to speak up.

“ The hell do you want?” The teen gruffed, shuffling a few cards around in his hands. Alastor looked back to see a tall teenager. He had slicked-back hair, which was dark raven-colored hair. He was wearing a button-up, dress shirt. He was standing behind the countertop and staring down at Alastor.   
  
“ Nothing,” He huffed and dusted himself off before stopping and doing a double-take at the help wanted sign on the window.”...I..is there still an opening here?” He grinned.   
  
Husk raised a row and tossed him a rag.” You start wiping down the windows and counter and you got a job, kid.” Husk huffed.   
  
“ Will I…” He started to ask before stopping and shaking his head.” Nevermind.” He stated.   
  
“ Ya want to know how much money you’ll get for working?” Husk raised a brow.” I’ll give you four dollars an hour, just don't drop the soap bucket. That shit doesn't come out good on the floor, and then it’ll stain and come outta yer' pocket.” Husk sneered before walking off. Alastor's grin grew on his face before he grabbed the bucket and sponge and started cleaning. 

Once the teen had gotten to work, it was done easily enough. On multiple occasions had he nearly tipped the blasted bucket over, but he thankfully saved it before it had done damage. As formal as he can be, god was he a klutz.

Out of nowhere, Husk appeared behind Alastor. "Ya did good, kid. Surprisingly fast, as well." Husk spoke, making Alastor slightly jump. He didn't move too much, though. Thank god, it would have been terrible if he nearly kicked the bucket over.

Husk noticed the sudden jump but didn't comment. He paid Alastor before sneering a "Scram, kid." The taller teen shooed him away before tossing him a couple of doors into his hand on his way out.” Be back here by two at least.” Husk told him as a grin grew over Alastor's face. He had a job now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> EF - https://discord.gg/WWhCurESa6 should be the working discord, If it isn't ill try to digure something else out.


End file.
